


Promises That Can't Be Made (To More Than One Person)

by Telaryn



Category: Graceland (TV), Leverage
Genre: Crossover, Emotional Baggage, Gen, Lies, Past Relationship(s), Rescue, Secret Identity, Secret Identity Fail, Secret Relationship, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a part of their deal for Quinn's assistance in The Last Dam Job, Eliot promised him a favor.  This isn't how Quinn expected to collect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises That Can't Be Made (To More Than One Person)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theron09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theron09/gifts).



> Written for the 2013 Leverage Exchange!

_”You know that favor you said you’d owe me? I’m calling it in.”_

The others had wanted to accompany Eliot – Nate in particular had been ready to give him a hard time. “You were acting on my orders when you made the deal for his help,” the mastermind had pointed out. “This is more my debt to repay than yours.”

Eliot had refrained from calling the man ‘adorable’ to his face, but it was a near thing. “I’m going to Southern California,” he’d argued instead, “not the Middle East. Whatever he wants my help for, I promise it’s not going to be more than I can handle.”

Quinn was waiting for him at the end of the boardwalk, looking out over the Pacific. Like Eliot, he was wearing expensive aviator sunglasses – lenses tinted so dark they were almost black. “Figured they’d be mirrored,” Eliot said, leaning on the railing next to the other hitter but facing back the way they’d both come.

He felt as much as heard Quinn’s answering chuckle. “Thanks for coming,” he said, bumping his shoulder lightly against Eliot’s. “I didn’t take you away from anything, did I?”

Eliot snorted softly. “I’m a big boy, Quinn. What’s the job?”

The other hitter exhaled sharply, turning away from the water at last. “Simple extraction. One of the local kingpins scored a DEA agent. Figure we’ve got a day at most before they decide to get rid of her.”

The ability to read other people’s body language had been a useful tool in Eliot’s arsenal ever since he’d left the legitimate world for work that was less so. Five years working with the likes of Nate and Sophie had polished his talents to a near-mastery; Quinn might as well have screamed to Eliot and all the tourists around them that there was something deeply personal at work here. _And whatever it is, he’s not comfortable talking about it._

“All right,” he said finally, clapping Quinn on the arm and pushing to his feet. “Food, beer, and then we talk.”  
****************  
Quinn had been in emotional free-fall since finishing his last job. There was something worryingly fragile inside him now, something long-buried that had been dragged forcibly into the light by what he’d seen.

 _She was almost unrecognizable in the dim light as Kusmanov’s people led him past, clothes dirty and torn her face a mass of new and healing bruises._ “Lauren Kincaid,” he said, wincing against memory of the moment when their eyes had met. She’d recognized him instantly, but ever the professional she’d given nothing away beyond a miniscule widening of her eyes. “Her cover is a Ukrainian national, with a family connection to some mid-level suppliers back in the old country.”

Eliot took a long pull off his beer, his expression completely neutral. Quinn was surprised – and somewhat relieved – to realize how much having the other hitter on scene steadied him. “Any idea how she ended up compromised?”

Grimacing, Quinn shook his head. “I was doing a retrieval job for Kusmanov, delivering the package, and they walked me right by her. I don’t know anything more than that, but I do know that he’s pretty short tempered about these kind of things.”

“So, if they’ve already been working her over, how long do you figure we have?” Eliot was already sliding his phone out. Quinn swallowed the urge to stop him from texting Hardison. _You need help._ Unless they were seriously going to Butch and Sundance this thing, Eliot wasn’t doing anything Quinn wouldn’t have done in his position.

Drawing a shaky breath, he forced his brain back on task. “Figure a day,” he said finally. “At most.”

Nodding, Eliot fired off his text, and then set the phone on the table by his food. “Okay. If there’s something to be found, Hardison will dig it up and let us know.” He took a bite of his hot dog, chewed and swallowed. “Anything you want to tell me before Hardison reports back?”

Quinn smiled. Here it was – the moment he’d been moving towards ever since his eyes and Lauren’s had met. He dropped his gaze to the table top, unable to look directly at Eliot as he finally said the words. “My name is Donald Banks.”

Hearing his birth name after so long was a dizzying experience. Emboldened by the sudden rush of adrenaline now that the most deeply held of all his life’s taboos had finally been breached, he realized he was able to face the man sitting opposite him. “I was a long term undercover agent with the DEA for just shy of five years. Lauren Kincaid was my partner for three of those five years.”

He could see understanding filling Eliot’s expression and knew he wasn’t going to get away without telling the whole story. “We were lovers for a little over two years,” he finished, the words sounding to his ear like they were tumbling out onto the table. “Right up to the point where everything went to shit.”  
********************  
 _So,_ Eliot thought, watching Quinn unburden himself, _personal and professional. This is going to be all the wrong kinds of fun._ “Gotta admit,” he said when Quinn took a break to take another swig of his own beer, “I had you pegged as military in your former life. Not law enforcement.”

Quinn smiled distractedly, nimble fingers toying with the neck of his bottle. “I’ve always been more adaptable than you, Spencer. That’s the undercover training.”

His first instinct was to bristle at the comparison, but a heartbeat later Eliot was able to acknowledge – at least to himself – that Quinn wasn’t entirely wrong. He’d always scored higher than his fellow rangers when it came to being able to shift with the changing circumstances of a mission, but it was the one skill he had that had continued to improve over the years. “How flashy are you looking to be here?” he asked Quinn finally. “You said ‘simple extraction’ before, but the backstory you’re giving me leaves a lot of room for somebody looking to get revenge.”

 _More adaptable, huh?_ He didn’t bother pointing out that Quinn’s unexpected brush with his past had robbed him of anything resembling a poker face. “Look,” he continued, pitching his voice to a low and encouraging tone, “I’m with you regardless – you know that. I’d prefer we had a plan with a chance of actually working though, and the only way we’re going to get that is if you’re honest about what you want to see happen.”

Nodding, Quinn fell silent. The two of them spent time working on their food while he considered Eliot’s position. The hitter didn’t push; the only way he was walking off this job was if Quinn tried to play him, and he was already satisfied that wasn’t going to be the case. They weren’t going to proceed until he heard back from Hardison regardless, and it was a very good hot dog.

He was finishing the last of his beer when Quinn seemed to come back to himself. “Extraction,” he said – and even though Eliot could tell he wasn’t happy about saying it, he seemed sure of his decision. “Lauren’s a big girl, and I lost the right to claim revenge in her name years ago.”

Eliot had opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything he caught movement at each edge of his vision. He was backed away from the table and half out of his chair when a Hispanic man and an exotic looking woman took the two remaining chairs at their table. “Hey there, Donnie!” the man greeted Quinn – his expression hyper-cheerful, bordering on manic.

The woman was looking at Eliot, who had just caught Quinn’s signal that these two were apparently known to the other hitter. “Subtle, Johnny,” Quinn said, glaring at the intruder.

A look that had made hardened criminals and warlords think twice about what they were planning to do didn’t seem to phase “Johnny” one bit. “Well you know,” he said, his grin going even wider, “some things never change.”

The woman glanced away from Eliot for a moment, back at Quinn. “Briggs wants to see you.” She looked back at Eliot. “Both of you.”  
*******************  
The sick part about it, Quinn realized as he glanced at each of his companions in turn, was that there wasn’t all that much difference between the Leverage team and the friends he’d lost when circumstances had pulled him out of Graceland. “Can’t imagine Briggs and I’ve got all that much to say to each other,” he said, leaning back in his chair and trying not to act too relieved that Eliot had picked up on his signal and was willing to follow his lead.

Paige shrugged, relaxing somewhat as well although she was keeping a careful eye on Eliot. “He thinks otherwise.”

“Well,” Quinn said smoothly, “I can’t speak for my friend here, but if you guys can wait until we finish our business I’ll be happy to swing by the house and see what he has to say.”

He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Turturro go completely serious as quickly as he did now. “We made you coming out of Kusmanov’s place,” he said, leaning in and lowering his voice. “Did you see Lauren?”

They weren’t going to let it go. _And the last thing Eliot’s going to stand for is being walked into a house full of law enforcement._ He locked eyes with Eliot across the table. “Why don’t you check in with your people? I’ll take care of this and catch up with you.”

Paige went immediately on alert, shaking her head. “Briggs said both of you.”

Eliot’s expression clouded, but Quinn laughed. “Paige honey, I don’t give a damn what Briggs wants because no matter how much of a badass he thinks he is, we don’t answer to him.” He looked at Eliot again and repeated, “I’ll catch up with you.”

The other hitter got slowly to his feet. There were several tense moments as he backed up a dozen steps – each of them waiting to see what the two agents would do. Quinn only realized he’d been holding his breath when Eliot turned to leave and neither Johnny nor Paige made a move to follow.

“All right,” he said, “let’s go talk to Briggs.”  
********************  
Nothing about this was sitting well with Paul Briggs. Lauren might not have technically been one of his, but the denizens of Graceland looked out for each other in ways that repeatedly crossed jurisdictional lines. It was the only way things could work in the house – living up underneath each other the way they did bred a closeness that was hard to ignore.

 _And then there’s you,_ he thought, catching sight at last of a trio of figures walking down the beach; Johnny and Paige flanking a Donnie who looked for all the world as if he’d never left them. _What the hell’s put you back in play?_

Almost as if he’d sensed Briggs watching him Donnie looked up – their eyes meeting even across the distance they still had to travel. A moment later his expression shifted, just as Briggs felt Charlie come up beside him on the balcony. “Is that really Donnie?”

“Looks like it,” Briggs said. Below them, Donnie smiled and flipped a two-fingered salute in their direction. “Johnny made him coming out of Kusmanov’s earlier. Paige sent me a text a few minutes ago confirming that he’s seen Lauren and she’s still alive.”

He sensed a tiny hesitation in Charlie’s breathing – the only show of emotion she would allow herself under the circumstances. “I want to keep this small,” he said, turning to face her. “You guys can stick around long enough to say hello, but as soon as the small talk’s done I’ll need you to make sure everybody but Paige clears out.”

Charlie looked for a moment like she wanted to argue with him, but to Briggs’ eternal relief she finally nodded.  
***********************  
Some days Eliot didn’t know why he bothered. “What part of ‘I got this’ did you not get, boss?” he asked as soon as he was in earshot.

Nate was actually grinning at him, the bastard. “Got all of it actually,” he said, turning smoothly at Eliot’s approach and walking with him down to the beach parking lot. “Just don’t happen to agree with your position that paying this particular debt is all on you.”

The others were arrayed around the open back end of a van that was definitely _not_ Lucille. “Where’s Quinn?” Sophie asked, looking at him over the top of her designer sunglasses.

Eliot felt a jolt of nervous energy flutter through his gut. He appreciated Quinn giving him the out he had, but knew that if their positions had been reversed _he_ wouldn’t necessarily have enjoyed walking into a meeting of all the people he’d left behind once upon a time. “Apparently this is home ground for him,” he said finally. “We ran into some people that were really insistent on a sit-down.”

Hardison’s eyebrows went up. “Law enforcement type people? I gotta say guys – never pegged Quinn for a fed.”

“He’s not a fed,” Eliot corrected automatically. “He was DEA, and yeah – I didn’t get that off him either. The guy was a fed though – girl was DEA.”

“How do you want to play this?” Nate asked. Eliot had already been working the angles over in his mind, even before he knew he was going to have all the back-up he would ever need.

“We need to go after his ex-partner,” the hitter said, including them all in the pronouncement. “Quinn was really worried about her – whatever he saw left him with the idea that she didn’t have too much more time.”

Hardison’s fingers were already dancing across the surface of his tablet. “We picked up some chatter that backs you up on that. This Kusmanov is not a righteous dude. Ties to the Russians are no big surprise, but he’s got his fingers in everything in this neck of the woods. Drugs, guns, sex trafficking – looks like if it’ll make him a buck, he’s game.”

 _Sex trafficking._ A hard, cold knot dropped into the pit of Eliot’s stomach. “If she’d been a man he would have killed her by now,” he said, trying not to focus too hard on where his train of thought was leading. “We can’t wait to see what’s going on with Quinn – we need to proceed as though he’s out of play.”  
********************  
Their welcomes had been cautious but genuine, and Quinn almost choked on the feelings of guilt it brought up just being back in this house with people he’d once called his friends.

“Figured the Bureau would have gotten tired of your bullshit by now,” he said to Briggs once the majority of the roommates had taken their leave. Only Paige stayed behind, which he supposed made sense. She was his peculiar brand of misfit, or she had been once upon a time. If Lauren was the only other DEA agent in the house…

Briggs shrugged. “You close enough cases they tend to look the other way. You know how it goes.” Quinn wondered if the _or you used to_ he heard hanging unspoken in the air between them was his own imagination or a reflection of Briggs’ actual position.

Before he could say anything, Briggs asked the question. “You’re obviously here about Lauren – is it official?”

Quinn wanted to turn it around, wanted to challenge Briggs and ask him what he thought, but even though it had been years he knew better. The DEA command structure would want to exclude all of the Graceland residents from any rescue operation, believing their emotional connection to Lauren to be an unacceptable liability. “What did they tell you about my reassignment?” he asked, glancing at Paige.

“The usual,” she said. “Once you recovered you weren’t coming back and we needed to move on.” She snorted softly. “Lauren wasn’t exactly on board with that.”

He’d convinced himself years ago that it had stopped hurting. _What a fucking liar…_ Physical relationships between agents were one of those things that were technically against the rules, but given the peculiar pressures faced by undercover operatives, higher-ups tended to be willing to look the other way. He and Lauren had even managed to screw that up, whispering promises to each other in the darkness that Quinn now understood should never have been voiced to anyone – least of all a fellow agent who was supposed to have known the score.

“You know if they were going in after her they would have done it by now,” he said quietly, meeting Paige’s eyes.

She nodded; her expression fierce. “You’re not leaving me out of whatever you’re planning, Donnie.”

“That goes for me too,” said Briggs. Quinn glanced at the FBI agent and suddenly _knew_ with one of those weird intuitive leaps his brain occasionally made, that in her grief and frustration Lauren had likely turned to their housemate for comfort.

He had a split second to decide if he was jealous, and if that answer was yes, were his feelings strong enough to influence what his answer to both of them had to be? “Guys, I’m not DEA anymore. Haven’t been for a long, long time. Blind, stupid luck and a series of events I can’t talk about put me in the middle of this.”

“But you’re planning something,” Briggs said, studying him with an expression gone unexpectedly shrewd. “With that guy Johnny said he saw you with at the restaurant? Who the hell is he?”

“Somebody who owes me a favor, and who I trust to get the job done.” Quinn forced himself to meet Briggs’ penetrating gaze without flinching. Eliot wasn’t going to wait for him much longer – assuming he’d waited for him at all, which was a very big assumption all on its own.  
****************  
As ops went, Eliot had seen worse. Hell, he’d gone through worse just with this team…this year. The important thing when the dust settled was that the local DEA guys were able to take Kusmanov and his boys in with enough evidence to put them away for a very, very long time.

Agent Lauren Kincaid had survived her ordeal, but Nate and Eliot both agreed that it was going to take a great deal of physical as well as psychological therapy before she would be able to consider whether or not she wanted to return to the field. Privately Eliot suspected that whatever had happened between her and Quinn had ruined her for undercover work, but it was nothing he would ever willingly tell the other hitter to his face.

 _Not my problem,_ he thought, watching her argue with the paramedics. A tired looking gray-haired man Eliot suspected was her boss was standing nearby, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere but here.

But if it wasn’t his problem, why was he still standing here? The others had beat a hasty, entirely strategic retreat once the real law enforcement types had shown up. None of them had challenged his decision to linger, although Nate and Sophie had both given him questioning looks.

Eliot wasn’t sure he could have explained it if they’d insisted. He just knew that it had been too long since he’d seen Quinn, and his obligation to the other hitter wasn’t going to be complete until he was face to face with the woman he’d loved and lost and could see for himself she was all right.

“What the hell are you?”

He’d sensed the others approaching him, but didn’t bother to turn and fully face them – only favoring the man at his right shoulder with a lazy half-glance. “I’m somebody you’re going to forget by the time the sun comes up.”

Johnny grinned at him – an easy going smile that reminded Eliot of Hardison. “Donnie’s hanging out with some interesting company these days. You DEA, bro?”

Eliot snorted, turning his attention back to the scene in front of them. Lauren had successfully chased off the harried paramedics, and had turned to arguing with her superior. “I assume I’m going to be seeing, ah, Donnie back sometime tonight?” he asked coolly.

The woman at his left shoulder spoke for the first time. “That’s not really up to us.”

“Ah,” Eliot said, nodding knowingly. “The elusive ‘Briggs’. Well, I suggest you get hold of Agent Paul Briggs and tell him that I expect to see Donnie down here within the hour – free and unharmed.”

“Why don’t you tell me yourself?” The new voice was at his back, and for the first time since answering Quinn’s call, Eliot felt a jolt of adrenaline shiver down his spine.  
*************************  
Even based on his somewhat overblown standards for what Eliot Spencer was capable of, Quinn had to admit this was impressive. “I leave you alone for five minutes…” he teased as Eliot finally turned to face all of them – stepping far enough back in the process to give himself room to fight.

Spencer smirked at him. “You know me – I hate to waste an opportunity.”

“You trying to tell us that you did this all by yourself?” Briggs was clearly stunned by the possibility, looking from Eliot to Quinn and back again. “What the hell are you?”

“That’s what I asked,” Johnny muttered, shifting incessantly from one foot to the other. Charlie had been at Eliot’s left – she fell back and reached for Quinn’s hand. He took it, smiling as she squeezed it reassuringly.

Eliot and Briggs were still sizing each other up. Finally Eliot shrugged. “Donnie gets under people’s skin. I’ve got some really stubborn friends who refused to let me do this for him by myself.”

Quinn couldn’t stop his quiet inhale of breath as he realized what Eliot was saying. The other hitter’s gaze met his, confirming what he suspected – the entire Leverage team had seen Eliot’s ‘debt’ to Quinn as something they were all responsible for. Somehow, and he suspected he would never know exactly how, the entire team had shown up, taken down Kusmanov, and freed Lauren while the top law enforcement agencies in the country were still trying to determine their next move.

Any nostalgia he might have been feeling for his old life drained away in that moment. He might be on the wrong side of the law these days, but that didn’t automatically damn him or keep him from being able to do some good in the world. Nobody was better proof of that than the man standing opposite him.

“Hey,” Charlie said softly, “you are going to talk to Lauren, right?”

Now all eyes were on Quinn. In an effort to buy himself a few seconds, he looked past Eliot to where Lauren was arguing with Dietrich – a decent enough guy who they’d both answered to once upon a time. “I shouldn’t,” he said quietly. “It’d be easier if I don’t.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Eliot groaned, just as Charlie asked, “Easier for who?” The two of them swarmed Quinn then, dragging him away from the others.

“Your boy knows I’m not going to cooperate with whatever he thinks he’s got to do, right?” Eliot asked under his breath as he and Charlie quick-marched Quinn across the open field that separated them from the bulk of the law enforcement activity.

“Don’t worry about Briggs,” Charlie said from Quinn’s other side. “This really doesn’t have anything to do with you – he’s trying to figure out what’s up with Donnie here.”

Eliot slowed, releasing his grip on Quinn’s arm. “Go ahead,” Quinn told him. “As soon as I’ve talked to Lauren I’m hitting the road too.” He grinned. “We’re square.” The other hitter didn’t look convinced. _Donnie gets under people’s skin._

“Don’t make me have to come back and break you out of jail,” he warned. “There’s an uncomfortable number of legal types around here.”

Quinn could feel Charlie’s curiosity pressing in on him, but all she said out loud was, “You leave Briggs to me. Donnie’ll be fine.”  
***************  
In the end, Eliot didn’t feel right about ditching out on Quinn. He suggested that Charlie, as the only one of the three of them with any sort of legal standing, approach Lauren and pull her free of everyone who was trying to get her to do the sensible thing and go to the hospital.

“What the hell do I say to her?” Quinn asked softly as the two women approached. Eliot saw the DEA agent’s eyes light up as she caught sight of Quinn and unexpectedly felt his own heart twist painfully in his chest.

“Be honest with her,” he said finally, giving Quinn a small shove. “And with yourself.”

It didn’t take either of them long to close the distance that separated them; Eliot heard a small sob escape Lauren as she threw her arms around Quinn and buried her head in his shoulder. Any concern he might have felt was mitigated by the sight of Charlie rolling her eyes as she returned to stand beside him. “Please tell me he’s going to do the right thing and break her heart?”

“He’s got to,” Eliot said, although he winced to see the two of them were now kissing – deeply and passionately, as if they were the only two people in the world. “This is a door he can’t walk back through.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Charlie nevertheless grinned at him. “And you’re not going to explain what you mean by that, are you?”

Eliot pretended to consider what she was saying, then huffed out a quiet breath and said, “Nope. And as long as nobody’s planning on arresting either of us tonight, I really don’t care what you take away from that.” In spite of himself, Eliot realized that he liked Charlie. _Too bad we can’t do anything about it,_ he thought. Her status as an FBI agent wouldn’t ordinarily have been an insurmountable obstacle, but her past connection to Quinn made things more complicated than it would be worth it.

The rest of Quinn’s former friends drifted up around them as Quinn and Lauren continue to talk, but none of them seemed to be in the mood to push Eliot any further. Even Briggs stood quietly, his focus entirely for the drama that was playing out in front of them – conveniently just out of earshot.

After a seeming eternity, Eliot saw Lauren’s hand go to her mouth, saw her tears begin to flow in earnest, and knew that Quinn had done what he needed to do. A moment later, the other hitter turned on his heel and stalked back towards them. “Take care of her,” he said, once he reached them – looking at Briggs, even though Charlie and Paige were already hurrying to Lauren’s side.

Briggs nodded, and Quinn’s attention shifted to Eliot. “Ready?” Eliot could only nod mutely, struck silent by the unguarded pain he saw in the other man’s pale eyes.

Nobody tried to stop them as they walked back the way they’d come – away from the whirling, flashing lights, and all the trappings of Quinn’s older, legitimate life. “You going to be okay?” Eliot asked quietly as they reached a nearby parking lot.

Quinn didn’t break stride. “Get me out of here, then ask me again.”


End file.
